At Last
by DarKxKunoichi
Summary: Viktor Krum x Hermione Granger. Sequel to Stolen Kisses. CHP 2 Up. R&R if you feel like it.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Hmm… this is my first sequel. I think. I hope it goes well.

"…" – speech

'…' – thoughts

(Bulgaria, Viktor's Home)

Viktor let out a heavy sigh. He leaned back against his headboard with a silvery photo album open in his lap. His eyes filled with longing as he ran his thumb gently along the cheek of a frizzy haired, brunette witch, who blushed and giggled in response. He smiled gently and continued to turn the pages eyeing the pictures of red-haired witches and wizards along with a dark haired wizard with a lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead, but no matter the place or number of people in each picture, that same frizzy haired witch was in each one. It had been almost a year since he had seen her at the Weasley-Delacour wedding and he had no idea how much he had really missed her. When he left after the Triwizard Tournament, they had exchanged many letters, each one laced with emotion and tenderness. However, once he had received one telling him of Hermione's inkling of feelings for the Weasley boy, his letters to her became more cold and withdrawn. He had understood that they hadn't promised anything to each other when he left, but he knew there wouldn't be anyone else for him. The Bulgarian Seeker went through a dark period where he tried to drown his feelings in liquor and random women.

When he received Fleur's invitation he almost rejected it once he read "Weasley." A growl of contempt went through his throat before he started to consider the possibilities. A Weasley wedding would no doubt attract family and if the youngest Weasley male were there, there would obviously be the possibly that Hermione would be there as well. Was it worth it to see her? What if she and Weasley were a couple? His thoughts went back to when he had been filled with rage over Hermione's letters. He had approached the album full of photos; his wand poised to cast a Severing Charm to cut Weasley out off all of his pictures, but the moment he saw Hermione's horrified face, he lost his nerve. Her face contorted to reprimand him for thinking of such a thing and every Hermione in his album turned their backs to him for the rest of the day, and then they disappeared altogether for the next few days. He realized if it hurt him to not see her in pictures everyday, how much would it hurt to miss out on a chance to see her in person? He firmly checked the "Yes" box on the invitation and sent the owl back to RSVP.

(The Burrow)

When he arrived at the wedding, he didn't expect to see so many Weasleys. Viktor felt like he was wading through a sea of flames as he pushed his way through the crowd. He felt his heart skip a beat when he spotted her, albeit in the company of two Weasleys, and he smiled. She had matured into a beautiful young woman. Hermione was a little taller than he remembered but with the same smooth, silky looking skin. Her hair had grown a little longer and had tamed a bit but it still had that untamed wildness that he fell in love with.

'In _love_?' Viktor thought incredulously.

Was that right? Was that was the reason he hadn't had a successful relationship in years? Was it the reason why he had always chosen blondes to take to bed? Was it that he just couldn't bear to pick anyone with a remote resemblance to Hermione? Viktor took a morbid kind of pride in knowing that he never brought any of those women into _his_ bed; he was saving that for her, only for her. That's when it hit him; it hit him like a nose breaking, bone crushing bludger: Viktor Krum was in love with Hermione Granger. Of course, at that moment his expression showed anything but love. He could feel himself glare reproachfully at Ron Weasley, the boy who was holding onto to _his_ love, dancing with the girl that should be with _him_. Viktor caught Hermione's gaze over Ron's shoulder, searching for anything that could lead to a sign that there was still a chance; he needed to find a hint, a sparkle, a flicker of anything that might give him that same hope he had when their eyes first met by the Goblet of Fire. And then there it was; that spark in her eyes that told him that she still wanted him – that she still cared about him. Their gaze was broken when Ron suddenly pulled Hermione into a spin but when their eyes connected again, it, once again, broke suddenly, this time by Hermione's sudden blush at Viktor's sly look and knowing smile. However, their subtle flirtation was interrupted before anything substantial happened and by Death Eaters no less. Viktor's harsh curses and cruel jinxes incapacitated large numbers of the dark wizards and doubled as a way to release the pent up tension in his mood but he had to apparate away before the members of the Order arrived to finish things up. When he returned home he immediately chastised himself for not staying to look for Hermione but all of his attempts to apparate back were blocked by a charm, which caused him rebound into random locations. He quickly sent his eagle owl out to find her, but each attempt failed and his owl returned with its original letter tied around his leg.

And now, it was a year later and he still hadn't heard anything from her. He had spent the past year waking up in a cold sweat and cursing his rash decision to hex and run. When the news of the Dark Lord's return had reached Bulgaria, everyone was put under suspicious eyes. Almost every witch and wizard in Bulgaria received their education at Durmstrang; a school known for its involvement in the dark arts, and it was the first place the Death Eaters went to gather Voldemort's supporters. Viktor's family gathered at his parents' castle under the protection of charms and dark spells, which cloaked them from any Death Eaters, as well as any owls that may have had any messages for Viktor.

When the war ended, naturally, most of the wizarding community burst into celebration because finally, Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, had defeated Lord Voldemort. Viktor even temporarily threw off his brooding to join in the festivities. After a week, however, he withdrew back into his shell of brooding and watching a cheerful Hermione wave and smile at him from the pictures in his album, jealously staring at himself in the pictures; he was able to hold her as much as he wanted. The Bulgarian wizard felt his eyes droop slightly when a snowy owl swooped into his room and landed on his shoulder, nipping his ear affectionately. His heart leapt when he recognized the owl.

"Hedvig!" He jumped slightly causing the owl to hop up into his headboard.

He quickly untied the letter around her leg and scrambled to read the letter.

_Dear Viktor,_

_I know it has been a while since we've written, but there have been a reason why I couldn't write. I hope you weren't offended if I didn't answer any letters you might have sent me. I'm sure you heard that Harry beat Voldemort and you're no doubt celebrating with the rest of the wizarding world. I hope Hedwig didn't interrupt you in the middle of anything important. But I really want to talk to you. I know this is sudden, but would it be alright if I visited you in Bulgaria? I've always felt bad for not doing it after my fourth year at Hogwarts and I thought that it would be a good time for us to catch up and for me to take you up on your offer. Please send Hedwig back with your answer and a place to meet, if it's alright that I come visit, as soon as possible._

_I _– he frowned at the words scribbled out and replaced with – _wait to hear your reply._

_ Yours Truly,_

_ Hermione J. Granger_

Viktor pulled out the drawer of his nightstand and extracted a quill, bottle of ink and a piece of parchment, where he started to scribble his reply.

_Dear Hermione,_

_I would be very happy if you would come visit me here in Bulgaria. We do have a lot to discuss. I will be meeting you in Diagon Alley on Saturday at noon, if it is okay?_

_ Yours,_

_ Viktor Krum_

"Vould you like to rest tonight and fly out tomorrow?" Viktor's head turned up to Hedwig.

She hooted her affirmation and tucked her head under her wing to sleep. Viktor stared thoughtfully at the scribbled out words on Hermione's letter. It wasn't like her to make mistakes and even though he knew she would be a little cross that he was going to do this but his curiosity got the better of him, as it did sometimes.

"_Evanesco!_" Viktor tapped his wand over the scribbles, wondering why Hermione didn't think he had enough precision with a Vanishing Spell to uncover her mistake. Or perhaps she thought that he wouldn't care there was a mistake and just pass over it.

The patch of ink erased itself and revealed Hermione's original phrase.

_I miss you._

Author's Note: I've been having a bad day with boys. I may have overdone the lovesick Viktor. I'll come back to edit it again later. R&R if you'd like.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Yeah… late, but the heat has been killing me. Thanks for the reviews guys!

"…" – speech

'…' – thoughts

_italics_ – text/sounds/foreign language

Chapter Two

(Diagon Alley, London)

A loud _crack_ signaled Viktor's entrance in Diagon Alley; it had been a while since he had been in England. He had almost forgotten how agreeable the weather was even during the summer. The Seeker was glad that everybody was still so caught up in their celebrations that they didn't pay much attention to him. He found a spot to sit around a large stone fountain and waited patiently for Hermione to arrive. The minutes passed by slowly. What was keeping her? Did she change her mind? Maybe something happened to her? Viktor checked his watch: he was twenty minutes early.

His eyes narrowed in annoyance. '_You're an idiot Viktor.'_

The Bulgarian Seeker suddenly felt something tugging on the hem of his robes. He looked down to find a copper haired English girl, not yet in the double digit ages, staring brightly at him.

"Excuse me, sir." Her honey colored eyes shined. "Are you Viktor Krum?"

"Vhy yes I am, little von." He smiled warmly. "Vot is your name?"

"I-I-I'm Sophie." She blushed, disarmed by his smile. "M-m-my daddy tells me that you're a great Seeker. I s-saw you at the World Cup a-and I-I think th-that…"

"Vould you like an autograph?" Viktor interrupted gently, gesturing to her parchment and quill.

"Y-yes please!" Sophie thrust her hands forward.

Viktor stood up, noting that the girl barely went past his knees, knelt beside her and scribbled on her piece of parchment.

_Sophie_

_I hope to see you at the next Quidditch World Cup. Perhaps one day we can play together._

_Best Wishes,_

_Viktor Krum_

He kindly handed the parchment and quill back to her and she squealed a "thank you" before running back into the crowd to her father. Viktor smiled at her, it was always refreshing to have a fan approach him for simply an autograph instead of Quidditch lessons or suggestive proposals.

"Aww, how sweet." A teasing voice came from behind him.

Viktor turned to see a pretty brunette witch smiling gently at him.

"It is good to see you again, Her-my-knee." Viktor stood, clicked his heels together, bowed and kissed her hand.

"You've gotten better!" Hermione giggled.

"It could still use some vork…" He said, a little embarrassed.

She squeezed his hand gently. "I like the way you say it."

Viktor felt a twinge of pink go through his cheeks. "Do you haff efferything you need?"

"Uh huh." She gestured to the trunk behind her.

He walked behind her and pulled up the trunk. "It is a little heffy for clothes."

"I would think so; those are my books." Hermione smirked. "This is where my clothes are." She held up a small beaded purse.

"Is very much like you to haff more books than clothes." He raised his eyebrows teasingly. "But I suppose I vill enjoy anything you can vear in that little bag."

"I put a charm on it, Mr. Pervert." She made a face and marched passed him.

"Do you know vare you are going?"

Hermione lowered her gaze and frowned in annoyance. Viktor chuckled and took her hand gently.

"Trust me."

Another _crack_ and they both disappeared and reappeared in a clearing with a single apple tree. Viktor dropped Hermione's trunk beside the tree and gestured for her to sit. She obeyed and watched him curiously while he examined the foliage. Her head tilted to the side as she observed him walk in a circular pattern around the base of the tree. She was about to question him but he nodded his head in satisfaction after his fourth trip around the tree and sat beside her on the trunk. His hand gently curled around her fingers and he held his free hand out toward the tree.

"_Accio!_"

(Viktor's Residence, Bulgaria)

A ruby red, perfectly ripened apple flew into his open hand and before Hermione could inquire how he did that, she felt a hook just behind her navel yank her upward and her surroundings blurred around her. Her hand clutched the side of her trunk and likened her experience to how it would feel to be inside of a blender. After another minute of spinning, she landed with a _thud_ on the pavement outside of, what appeared to be, a modestly sized community of townhouses in front of acres of empty land. Viktor stood up and took a bite out of the juicy red apple and stared at her pointedly.

"Affle?" He offered during a swallow.

"How did you do that?" She ignored the apple.

"Do vot?" Viktor took another bite.

"Use a Summoning Charm without your wand."

He looked at her curiously. "You do not know how?"

Hermione looked as if he had horribly offended her. "No I don't!" She responded indignantly.

Viktor shrugged and levitated the trunk with his hand. "Vill show you how later. Come inside now."

The witch glared at the trunk, annoyed that it would follow Viktor's commands when he didn't have a wand and it would only do what she wanted to when she used her wand. Even after school she seemed to have a complex about being outdone when it came to her magical education. Viktor did have three years more experience, she tried to reason with herself and she _had_ missed her seventh year at Hogwarts, so it was completely understandable that Viktor would be _a little_ more advanced. All that logic didn't stop her from swearing to buy a load of new spell books the second she got a change though.

"This vill be your —," Viktor's eyebrows quirked up. "Is there something wrong?"

Hermione's face had screwed up in annoyance during her mental berating of her lack of magical education.

"Huh?" She quickly smiled. "Oh, nothing. What were you saying?"

"Er… this vill be your room." He said, using his hand to introduce the room. "Vill giff you rest of tour after you haff gotten settled."

Hermione walked into the room with a bit of disappointment in her eyes. It was, in fact, a beautiful room. The burgundy carpet matched the bed sheets and curtains and was soft and plushy between her toes while the bed frame, dressers, nightstand and door were crafted with a fine oak finish, as if they were all made in a set. The walls and ceiling were a clean white and two sliding mirrors, which occupied one wall, hid a large closet. Beautiful, simply beautiful but she had held a small hope in her heart that she would be sharing a bed with Viktor, after all, hadn't they been intimate enough in the past for them to share a bed? The witch shook her head ridiculously; she was being insanely presumptuous. It has been years since they've seen each other and what right did she have to expect such a thing? He could have found someone else already; it's not like someone as famous and handsome as he was would just wait for her and he obviously has his pick of women. Viktor must have seen her eyes darken a bit and voiced his concern.

"There is something you are not liking?" The Bulgarian wizard frowned.

"No, it's wonderful." Hermione smiled placidly. "I just wanted to finish the tour now; I have plenty of time to get settled; I hope."

"Ah, off course." Viktor lowered Hermione's trunk to the foot of the bed and lead her across the hall.

"This is…" He paused for a moment, trying to grasp at a word. "…toilet room vith bathtub for you."

"Just for me?"

He nodded and pointed down the T-shaped hallway. "My room is to the right; has own toi- er… bathroom." He suddenly remembered the correct term.

Viktor snarled internally, immediately regretting that he hadn't practiced speaking English in the last four years. He felt the same way he had felt when he first started learning it: stupid. It has always left a bitter taste in his mouth, but knowing that Hermione understood him made it so much sweeter. Although all of her letters allowed him to wrap his brain around the language, his tongue still fumbled with the words and he sometimes confused concepts. The Seeker was grateful for Hermione's gentle corrections and patience for his learning curve.

"And to the left?" Hermione queried.

"Room for Quidditch."

"Oh?"

The witch walked down the hall and entered the room. Awe and admiration suddenly bloomed in her chest. She wasn't the biggest Quidditch fan but even she could tell that the amount of shimmering gold and silver cups reflecting off of her eyes was incredibly impressive. Some of the medals and cups had inscriptions in Cyrillic but she assumed they said the same as the rest: _Viktor Krum, Quidditch_ - something or other with a sentence below his title describing his amazing skill in that particular game. She took a particularly well polished trophy from one of the stands and stared at it appreciatively.

"That von is my favorite." Viktor smiled over her shoulder.

"It is? Why?" Hermione responded quizzically, staring at the number _2_ engraved among the foreign symbols. "Doesn't this say you've won second place?"

"Yes." He responded, impressed. "You know how to read it?"

"No…" She smiled in embarrassment. "…but this number two kind of gives it away."

"Oh?" The burly Bulgarian raised his eyebrows innocently. "Vould haff thought they vould use Cyrillic numbers…"

"You're right…" She frowned. "I wonder why… hey!"

Viktor felt his spine stiffen slightly. "Vot?"

"You forgot to tell me why this one is your favorite."

"Did not forget." He smiled slyly. "Come, tour is incomplete."

"Why don't you want to tell me?" Hermione's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Vill tell you later."

"I didn't know you were the type to keep secrets." Her lips twitched slightly. "Especially with something like this..."

"Not secret; just something I vill tell you later."

"Like your magic tricks?"

Viktor sighed. "Can tell you reason now, and not teach you magic or vill tell you later, and teach you magic. Vhich vould you like?" Victory sparkled in his eyes.

"Fine," She returned the trophy to its original spot. "I can wait."

As curious as she was, Hermione wasn't one to risk missing out on a chance to improve her magical talent. They left the trophy room and Viktor directed her to the kitchen, then the living room before taking her to the backyard, which seemed to stretch a mile in each direction.

"How do you have such a big yard when you have neighbors?"

"Buy land from neighbors. It is very good for Quidditch practice."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're spoiled?"

"_Vitch Veekly_ says so effery vonce in avhile."

"Well I'm inclined to agree with them this time."

"Perhaps you should get settled now?" He interjected with mock annoyance. "I vill make lunch vhile you unpack."

"You can cook?" Hermione stared at him disbelievingly.

"I…" The Bulgarian wizard hesitated for a moment. "I vill do votever I can."

She shot him a look of pure amusement and returned to her room to unpack. Hermione opened her trunk and pulled out stack after stack of thick heavy reference and spell books. She transfigured her trunk into a fine oak bookcase to match the rest of the furniture. After she deposited her books into the bookcase, she was pleased to find that she had two extra shelves for the new books she planned to buy. The witch stared at the small beaded bag lying on the bed and frowned. She wasn't in the mood to unpack, but it was so unlike her to leave something unfinished. But then again, it was unlike her to decide to leave Britain so suddenly and run off to Bulgaria.

'It wasn't a sudden decision was it?' She bit her lip nervously. 'This was something you've been planning for a while, hasn't it?'

Hermione shook her head of her thoughts and stood up firmly. She walked out of the room without looking at the unpacked bag once, but couldn't help but give just a little worried glance back at the door she had closed behind her. The witch's feet stepped lightly along the hardwood floor, following the path into the kitchen, to see how Viktor was faring. Hermione arrived to find Viktor pointing his wand to a pot of water on the stove.

"_Incendio!_"

"Viktor!" Hermione shrieked suddenly when the pot burst into flames. "_Aguamenti!_" A shower of water shot from her wand and subdued the flames almost instantly.

Viktor stared angrily at the pot and Hermione looked at him disbelievingly. "Is this how you cook?"

"That vos… just an accident." He continued to glare at the pot, as if it was somehow its fault.

"What's this?" Hermione picked up a piece of parchment full of Cyrillic writing.

"Oh… uhh…" Viktor blushed lighly. "Just directions to make _gyuvetch_."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "Is that right?" Not at all sure if whatever he had mentioned was edible. "Where did you get it?"

"From my mother." He glanced over her shoulder.

Hermione looked horrified. 'Was his mother right behind me?'

She turned and was relieved to find a picture of a dark haired woman smiling gently at her.

"This is your mother?" Hermione said in awe. "She's beautiful."

The woman in the portrait laughed softly. "Vhy thank you darling. I see my _Vitya_ has chosen vell."

Before Hermione could question the portrait's remark, Viktor quickly interrupted. "That is enough, _maika._"

Hermione took a step back to avoid blocking Viktor's view of his mother as they began arguing in Bulgarian. Actually, it was more Viktor arguing, and his mother would smile innocently and placidly respond with a few well chosen words. Hermione was starting to feel a bit awkward standing between two people conversing in a language in which she had no understanding. The situation ended with Viktor grabbing the photograph, and with incredible difficulty, gently pressed the framed picture face down on the countertop; his eyes narrowed and frustration grew steadily in his expression.

"Are you…" Hermione broke the silence with her timid question. "… alright?"

"Am fine." He couldn't quite keep the growl out of his voice. "_Maika_… My mother was just being… like my mother."

"Do you often have rows with your mother like that?"

"Only vhen she mentions certain things."

"Like what?"

"She…" His cheeks flushed suddenly. "…vishes very much to see me… married."

"Oh." Hermione's cheeks matched his, understanding what his mother meant. "Why does she want you to get married so soon? You're only 21…"

"Perhaps it is different vith Muggles…" Viktor explained. "… for most vizards and vitches, it is more common to be married around this age. Also, my brother has announced his engagement a few veeks ago."

"Oh… how old is your brother?"

"Tventy-fiff." Viktor shuddered suddenly. "Mother in picture has probably told real mother that I haff brought home fiancé. Whole family has been prodding me to find vife; they think it is simple because I am famous."

Hermione giggled. "I suppose it is more difficult for famous people, but Harry did okay finding someone…"

"It is very difficult." He said a bit crossly.

The British witch smiled gently. "I was just kidding." Her gaze lowered a bit. "Love is probably the hardest thing to find, even for a Seeker."

'_Not as hard as you would think…_'

End of Chapter Two

Author's Note: I would've made this longer, but I think it would've spiraled out of control a little bit.


End file.
